


Nothing

by Nelioe



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, Captivity, Gen, Good Brother Kíli, Hurt Fíli, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4508388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelioe/pseuds/Nelioe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What was only supposed to be scouting ended in the worst possible way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> It is awful when you know you should finish other stories, but only feel like writing depressing stuff.

 

 

Blows were good, it meant they hadn’t started to cut limbs off. Screams were good, it meant the person they tortured was still alive, still strong enough to withstand. Alive was good, it meant they had time, time to come up with a plan. Plans were good, they spoke of an escape, of rescue, of a return. But if all these things were good signs, why was his mind feeling so completely void? Why had he to stand by and watch his older nephew getting tortured? Fíli’s anguished cries echoing from the high cave walls, caused Thorin’s hair to stand on end.

He barely heard Kíli pleading beside him _to stop, please, please just stop. Stop hurting him._ But they wouldn’t stop, they were going to teach him a lesson. Him. Thorin Oakenshield. For stumbling in their lair. He didn’t even remember anymore how they had ended here, everything was gone, replaced by the screams of his heir, of one of the two lads he loved like his own sons. His nephew. He had taught him so many things after the death of his father. Fishing, tracking and smithing and fighting with swords, knives and axes, but it was of no use now. Fíli’s hands and legs were bound, his chest bare and a whip tattered his skin with every lash.

For the first time in his life Thorin was frozen with fear. There was nothing he could do. They wanted to hurt him, wanted to know the destination of their journey and wanted to take his heir. The price he had to pay for choosing such a dangerous path. He couldn’t even say what happened to their company, were they still waiting for their leader and his nephews to return from their scouting trip? How much time had passed since they were captured? Perhaps no one missed them just yet, although to him it felt like an age, every cry leaving Fíli’s lips burdened Thorin’s shoulders with the anguish of a lifetime.  

Thorin knew he should tell them, shouldn’t scarified a lad for his dreams of reclaiming an old home, not after Fíli had already sacrificed too much to become the heir Thorin had shaped him into. But there was no guarantee for what would happen to them if Thorin broke, through he’d already been broken, right in the moment the first blow with the whip had hit Fíli’s back and his heir had tried to suppress a groan.  If he relented they were probably going to kill Fíli anyway, but if he kept quiet along with his nephews they could buy time and if they were lucky Dwalin and the others would find them before he lost his family.

“Stop it! He isn’t Thorin’s heir, I am!” Kíli suddenly screamed on top of his lungs, causing the lashing to stop abruptly, all eyes turning to him.

He could see both of their bodies shaking, Kíli’s right in front of him and Fíli’s out of the corner of his eye, as if they weren’t two different dwarves, as if they were one. And hadn’t this exact thought crossed Thorin’s mind a few times already? Since Kíli was old enough to follow his big brother the two had been inseparable. Over years he’d had been able to watch how these two looked at each other, the features of the older radiating pride, while the younger’s gaze held such a deep admiration. Even when they had been no more than dwarflings Thorin had known that they would die for each other. However, he hadn’t expected to live to see it.

“Kíli?” Fíli croaked, his voice hoarse from crying. It was the only sound he could make before one of their captors slammed his foot in Fíli’s side. The blond lost his balance and landed on the ground with a grunt, pressing his brow against the dirty floor of the cave, breathing hard.

The one that held Kíli tight, ensuring he wasn’t going to escape, leaned around slightly. “If you are the heir, who is he then?” Thorin could see his youngest nephew grimace, probably due to the bad breath hitting his nose.

“A nobody,” Kíli pressed, tense jaws hampering his speech. “He is my bodyguard, every time we leave our settlement we pretend he is the heir to protect me from harm should we be attacked.”

What had started as a story told in a shaking voice turned more and more to confident words as Kíli seemed to remind himself why he was doing it. Listening to the archer Thorin felt more and more nauseous with every passing heartbeat, sensing what was going to happen if Kíli continued.

“I mean, look at him. He doesn’t even look like Thorin or me. He only exists to protect me, you will gain nothing from hurting him.”

Their captors exchanged a look before studying Fíli intensively.

“Is that true?”  They just wanted to make sure, Thorin realised. They already believed him, Fíli’s appearance and Kíli’s words fooling them completely. “And you better don’t lie now, Oakenshield.”

With a heavy heart his gaze wandered from Fíli to Kíli, his nephews carrying a pleading expression, only thinking of the other, not caring if they would get themselves hurt in the process. But he had no choice, denying Kíli’s words now would endanger him and they were both going to lose their lives. Kíli’s artifice would all be in vain and the archer would have to suffer the consequences of his actions. However, this wasn’t the only thing he had to keep in mind. Fíli was his heir, trained to rule one day and as much as he loved Kíli, he knew that his younger nephew would never be suited for this task. It wasn’t in his nature. It was a sacrifice he hadn’t ever imagined of doing, but Kíli had put him in this position because he trusted him to do the right thing… or what Kíli thought to be the right thing and Thorin had to go along with it, if he didn’t want to risk losing more than he would anyway.

“It is true,” he finally managed to say, his voice wavering so lightly that only he seemed to notice that it was there. “He is nothing to me.”

The betrayal in Fíli’s features felt like a blow, stealing his breath while shame settled in his stomach. If he should survive this by some miracle, he could never face his sister again; he had just weighed his nephews against each other and attested one more value than the other.

“In that case, why give up your protection?” One of their captors turned to Kíli.

“Because,” and with this Kíli met the gaze of his guard, a fire glowing in the dark brown eyes Thorin had never seen before, “unlike you I don’t lack honour.” Just a pinch of the truth to make the lie perfect.

“No! He is lying!” Fíli tried to argue back, but got silenced by another kick.

“We will see how much honour will be left when we are done with you.” The destination of their journey didn’t matter anymore, perhaps it never had and they’d just used this excuse to spice up their game. They wanted to see him suffer, wanted to kill his heir. That must’ve been the plan right from the start.

A rough push forced Kíli to swap places with Fíli, who was grasped by his hair and literally thrown against Thorin. Despite his bound arms and legs his oldest nephew tried to crawl to his brother’s side, the pain in his back forgotten by now.

“No! No! He is lying! Please! They are both lying!”

He didn’t get far, was yanked backwards by his tied legs and fixed to the ground by one of their captors.

“Where does folk like you find these stupidly loyal guards,” one of them chuckled.

“I think I will use the knife on this one,” another mused.

“No! Please don’t hurt him! Please! He is lying! Please! Please! Please!” Fíli wailed, trying to wiggle out of the grip that fixed him to the floor, but it was in vain.

Thorin was shaking with regret, disgust and fear. He wanted to close his eyes, wanted to look away, but he knew he couldn’t do it. He had to look, had to see what agony he’d brought over his youngest nephew, had to give him comfort through his presence. Kíli’s eyes were the ones of a scared little kid, but the tiny nod addressed to Thorin spoke of his gratefulness, thanking his uncle for his support. It didn’t provide any relief in the wake of Fíli’s pleading.

There wasn’t any hope left in him. With his decision he had already lost them both. He’d seen it in Fíli’s expression, there would be no forgiveness for him and he didn’t want it. There was nothing, nothing left, beside Fíli’s begging and the hole in Thorin’s chest.

Kíli screamed when the knife cut into his skin.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry.


End file.
